


Apricity And The Moon Above You

by offbeatheart (fleetingconstant)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Broken Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai, Gen, KaiSoo - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:12:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9893075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleetingconstant/pseuds/offbeatheart
Summary: Kyungsoo was the moon, living for the sun.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another cross post! Originally from No One Dies This Time fest (2016).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_”Close your eyes and picture the sun,_  
That’s what it felt like to love her: warmth.”  
\- Atticus

 _”My darling, you can’t see it, can you? How like the moon you are. Both of you so timid in yourselves; hiding pieces from the world. Then, there are those rare moments when you both are full, and it becomes hard to look away. You are beautiful.”_ \- Alexandria Drzewiecki

~ ☀︎☾ ~

People have always been attracted to beautiful things.

Kyungsoo can attest to that—he was one of those people.

It happened at a dimly lit underground club one night when Kyungsoo went to support his friend’s band. He spent the night enjoying the music, unaware that his life was about to change as soon as he caught sight of a tall brunet who stood out in the middle of a sea of people.

Even if he only saw hints of the man’s face in the dark, never in his life had he been bewitched by someone he had never met.

They’d gone as far as share longing stares that moment, but the brunet’s smile had stolen the spotlight in Kyungsoo’s eyes, and became another reason to stay that night.

A few weeks later, Kyungsoo met the brunet again outside of a bookshop just before it was about to close up for the night, watching the rain pour heavily in front of him.

Kyungsoo had also been watching—only he wasn’t standing in the middle of the rain with drenched clothes.

It wasn’t every day that he meets someone this interesting, and considering that it had been their second encounter, a proper introduction would have been nice.

There was none, not even when the beautiful brunet had taken Kyungsoo’s hand in his, pulling him in so they could run through the rain together, acting as if they weren’t the strangers that they were. 

The brunet was charming, and honestly quite a cliché—he said people who thought the sunshine was pure happiness never danced in the rain.

His touch said otherwise—it was like the warmth of summer.

Kyungsoo didn’t think there would be a third time, until he found him sitting alone on a bench one day.

The possibility of the brunet forgetting him was high, but the hint of recognition suddenly reached his face as soon as he passed by him.

Kyungsoo couldn't help but think that maybe this was something more than just coincidence, so he sat next to him as though they had never met, sharing his bag of sour patch gummy worms and calling him by his name, _’Jongin’_.

It felt as if they had all the time in the world, engaging themselves in what they called the longest conversation of their lives, feeding each other with sugarcoated hands with knees somewhat bumping and shoulders touching slightly.

By the end of the night, Kyungsoo seemed to know everything about Kim Jongin—his thoughts, his dreams, his secrets.

Kyungsoo came home with him sharing kisses under the moonlight from the bedroom window—bodies rolling and hearts colliding.

It was two in the morning and they were laughing way too hard. Kyungsoo caught a light in Jongin’s eyes. He was drawn to it, thinking that he would get lost in them if he inched just a little bit closer.

Kyungsoo didn’t know what it meant at that moment—All he knew was he found himself already lost with him.

It’s two years later when Jongin picks him up at the flower shop he works in.

Today is the first of November, when the snow falls grimly outside and the cold continues to bite into Kyungsoo’s skin, but Jongin has always had a warmth to his presence that made things worthwhile (if not better).

Jongin’s brought the warmth with him as he waits patiently for Kyungsoo to finish, his body relaxed against the doorway with a small smile curving across his face.

People have always been attracted to beautiful things. Kyungsoo was one of those people, and here was Jongin, effortlessly beautiful all on his own.

It seemed as if the world loved Jongin for it, such as how he’s mesmerizing one of Kyungsoo’s loyal customers today, paying the utmost attention to his sunny presence instead of the flowers that Kyungsoo prepared. If anything, the flowers would have been left alone if the customer hadn’t paid for them.

It’s during these moments when Kyungsoo becomes one of those people who thinks there’s a fault to being beautiful.

He stares at the flowers inside his shop—beautiful but disregarded—asking himself if this is what it feels like to be a daisy in a garden of roses.

*

When they come home to their apartment, shed their clothes and prepare to sleep through the remaining hours of the night, Jongin brings Kyungsoo close, whispering, “ _How could I have been so lucky?_ ” then kisses him goodnight before drifting into slumber.

He doesn’t know what to make of Jongin’s words. _Was it an affirmation? An apology?_ Kyungsoo chooses to keep these questions to himself.

Hours pass and Kyungsoo loses sleep to the dreaming face in front of him, gazing at the moon as it peeks through the window and casts a glow to the outline of Jongin’s body.

He listens to Jongin’s steady breathing in the quiet of the bedroom, wondering who had really been the lucky one.

Kyungsoo meets Jongin’s eyes when he wakes at early morning. He’s half-awake, pulling a grin on his face that lights up the whole room.

He doesn’t know what time it is, but it doesn’t take long for Jongin to make love to him, just before the sun comes up.

“Rise and shine,” Jongin whispers softly, lips smiling against his skin with his naked body curling around Kyungsoo’s. The way he says those words hold a certain kind of fondness that makes his heart swell.

Jongin was just like the sun, and Kyungsoo was waking up to his day.

The day comes only to leave again.

As soon as Jongin finishes packing, he places a quick kiss to Kyungsoo’s cheek before walking out the apartment and running off to catch his flight to New York.

Flying overseas and sometimes even across the country had been nothing out of the ordinary ever since Jongin’s modelling career began. Jongin would leave for photo shoots, while Kyungsoo would take charge of the household chores, doing everything he can so that his other half will be able to return to a comfortable home.

Kyungsoo did nothing else but run to the flower shop and attend to a lonely weekend after that, wondering who Jongin was with and if he had eaten a decent meal, waiting for the day that he came back.

When Jongin did return he was always too tired for anything else, that the only thing Kyungsoo could let him do was sleepwalk to the bedroom each time and collapse on their shared bed next to him.

 _Save the stories for tomorrow_ , Kyungsoo would tell Jongin, uncertain if there would be tomorrow when they didn't have today.

It’s still an accomplishment, Kyungsoo thinks, that despite Jongin not knowing the incredible amount of things he did for him, Jongin will always come back to a home built for two.

*

Jongin informs Kyungsoo of his arrival three days later in the mid afternoon with nothing else planned for the rest of the day.

Instead of heading straight home, Kyungsoo sends him a text saying he’d be _running a little late_. It’s only after that when he chooses to take a longer route to his apartment—a much needed walk to distract himself from all the disoriented thoughts he’s been having.

He makes it to the apartment after thirty minutes, meeting pitch black as soon as the door opens.

“Jongin?” he calls out from the darkness, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. He moves cautiously to make sure he doesn’t break anything before placing the flower pot down on the dining table.

He realizes that the windows are open, then slowly makes out Jongin’s body walking steadily towards him from the bedroom in the dark, carrying what both looks like a lighter and a candle in his hands.

“Hey,” Jongin greets cheerily, kissing Kyungsoo on the cheek with a smile across his face. His eyes regard the pot and the heart shaped flower planted there with a questioning look. “I’ve never seen this before.”

“Anthuriums are supposed to symbolize hospitality. I thought it would look perfect here.” Kyungsoo points to Jongin’s hands. “Power’s out?”

Jongin lights the candle and places it on the candleholder next to the pot. “One of the wires from the poles snapped and cut off our building’s electricity. The generator didn’t last very long either, so it looks like we’ll be waiting a while.”

The older man frowns. “That means I won’t be able to cook.”

“We’ll work something out,” Jongin says reassuringly. “In fact, I’ve already arranged a dinner by candlelight spent with exquisite chinese takeout and a _very_ exquisite man. How does that sound?”

As much as Kyungsoo wants to dwell on how much of a stress this is giving him, he can’t help but look back at Jongin and smile, with all his troubles disappearing for the meantime.

It’s been too long since he last saw Jongin under this light, looking more and more like the sun with the soft glow in his eyes.

 

If there is one thing Kyungsoo always misses about Jongin when he leaves, it’s the stories he takes home with him. He is a person who never runs out of stories, but _who would if you’ve traveled the world?_

It doesn’t matter; Kyungsoo will always be interested in what Jongin has to say. He makes sure to listen to every little tale—old or new. He’s even developed a habit of remembering the tiniest details of Jongin’s adventures, as if Kyungsoo had been there himself and was with Jongin during all those times.

These thoughts come to mind just as Jongin talks nonstop over dinner. He’s told at least one or two stories at this rate, but Kyungsoo hasn’t been paying attention this time—just continues to gaze at Jongin as if he were making up for lost time.

The worries start to creep in, but Kyungsoo tries not to think about them, and how it feels as if they’ve always been living in lost time.

 

They fall into a comfortable silence after dinner, bodies swaying into a slow dance under the moonlight at the tiny balcony of their shared apartment, while music plays from Jongin’s bluetooth speaker.

“I can’t remember the last time we stayed like this,” Jongin says. Kyungsoo’s head is against his chest while his arms are wrapped around his neck, but that doesn’t stop him from sensing the tone of apology in his voice.

“I can,” Kyungsoo answers calmly. “It was the day of your sister’s wedding.”

How could he forget? Kyungsoo had been planning to keep his habit of singing in the shower a secret for as long as he can, until the bride’s wedding singer had backed out the last minute on her wedding day, leaving no choice but for Jongin to reveal his boyfriend’s _hobby_.

The music changes to a soft acoustic ballad, and Amy Winehouse’s voice reverberates across the room when she sings the first lines to _Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?_

“I remember now,” Jongin recalls. “Wasn’t this the song you sang?”

It was, but what Kyungsoo remembered most about the wedding was the morning after the reception, and waking up with Jongin and a painful hangover inside a furniture store.

They didn’t remember breaking in during the middle of the night, but was given proof through the cctv camera—playing house and slow dancing until they were knocked out cold on top of the the store’s most expensive bed.

After peacemaking with the store’s manager, they silently drove away in Jongin’s pick-up—ten pounds heavier.

The bed stayed in Jongin’s pick-up for a week, until they decided to rent a shared space for its sake.

 _Home_ , was what they called it.

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told you before?” Jongin asks.

Kyungsoo only looks up at him.

“I’ve never told you this, but it had always been a lovely thought to come home to you—bed or without. And it still is, Kyungsoo.”

He looks into his eyes filled with innocence and sincerity, wishing he can say the same and thinking how selfish it is of him that he can’t.

The bedroom is dark, but Kyungsoo wakes up to an empty bed. He finds Jongin next to the window when he sits up straight, gazing silently outside.

“Come back to bed, love,” Kyungsoo calls out.

“I’ll be there,” Jongin answers. “I’m sorry I woke you. I’ve just always been curious about the moon.”

Kyungsoo leaves the bed and walks closer to him, catching sight of the moon as it illuminates the night sky.

“What about the moon?” Kyungsoo asks when he stands next to him.

“I was just wondering,” Jongin continues, “if the sun has ever been jealous of the moon. I would be too.”

“And why is that?”

Jongin is deep in thought, eyes focused on the satellite.

“Doesn’t the moon seem to be just like us? Sometimes lonely—unsettled. When I realize how the moon is made up of these tiny imperfections, it makes me jealous because it knows exactly what it feels like to be real. It’s admirable, isn’t it? The moon knows what it is to be human, while all I’ve ever been taught is to be perfect.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say to Jongin.

He has always been jealous of the sun for shining on its own.

*

The weather seems colder these days—at least to Kyungsoo it does.

Maybe it’s the empty bed he’s woken up to that morning, or the empty apartment he’s been waking up to for the last week.

He looks outside from the window of the coffee shop, welcoming the warmth of the coffee mug closed around his hands with the company of a friend.

Baekhyun had just come back from his three-month vacation in London with his boyfriend, Chanyeol, and had asked to see him the moment his plane landed.

It was admittedly nice to be in the same place with Baekhyun again after so long. E-mail conversations and third party messaging apps have been too limiting to their friendship.

“So, what have you been doing lately?” Baekhyun asks enthusiastically.

Kyungsoo continues to stare out the window when a bus passes by with Jongin’s latest advertisement, thinking how ironic it is that he seems to be everywhere but home.

Jongin is busier than usual. His trips out of town have been less, but Kyungsoo thinks it makes no difference when he’s fully booked for the country’s biggest fashion event of the year.

There are days when Jongin comes home but barely has time to talk. When he does have time, it’s as if he was in another dimension, delivering daily reports to Kyungsoo instead of telling him how his day had been.

Moreover, Jongin has been exhausted and disconnected lately, but it’s an exciting time for him and Kyungsoo tries to take the weight of it all simply because he loves him.

“Waiting for summer,” Kyungsoo says nonchalantly without looking at him.

“And Jongin?” Baekhyun asks as he sees the ad on the bus. “How is he?”

“He’s been occupied, not that it’s unusual.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t need to say anything else for Baekhyun to understand; he catches onto things way too quickly.

“I see,” Baekhyun says. “Do you want to tell me how you’re taking this?”

Kyungsoo faces Baekhyun with a smile that doesn’t exactly reach his eyes.

“He’s happy, so I should be.”

He should’ve known better, because Baekhyun doesn’t take the bait.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really happy,” Baekhyun asks, “or just really comfortable?”

“Baekhyun.”

“Cause it seems to me that you have a different understanding of what happiness is,” Baekhyun says. “Soo, sweetie, it doesn’t always work that way. Since when did your happiness become dependent on someone else?”

Kyungsoo says nothing, but maybe it’s because he doesn’t know.

All he knows is lately, he’s been coming to a home that’s not his own.

It hasn’t always felt this way, as if his world only revolves around a single person, but most days he can’t remember the last time he did things for himself. He doesn't remember the last time he had been someone who isn’t an extension of Jongin.

Kyungsoo wouldn't blame Jongin for not noticing, that in the last couple of weeks he’d been unaware of the vacant soul beside him, that each time Jongin shines the brightest, Kyungsoo fades, drifting away into his shadow.

Sometimes he only wishes he could be beautiful too.

“I don’t see anything wrong in trying to support him.”

“I know,” Baekhyun says. “Look, I’m not saying you shouldn’t support him. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t be happy for him, but your happiness is what matters, too. You’re a big dreamer, Kyungsoo. I know you love working at the flower shop, but how long are you going to wait before you do the things you want to do? How long are you going to pretend that this is the life that you want?”

Kyungsoo sighs and looks at Baekhyun with a face of defeat, knowing that he’s right somehow.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s fallen deeply, madly into Jongin, without knowing how far he would go.

“I just don’t know what I would do if I lose him, Baek.”

“Which is why I’m here, keeping you grounded.” Baekhyun takes his hand in his as comfort. “You won’t lose him, Kyungsoo. And whatever happens, the sun will continue to be beautiful, and life will continue to move on whether you like it or not. Sometimes you just have to make your own sunshine.”

Kyungsoo thinks Jongin is like the sun—He is always chasing, always missing him.

*

Kyungsoo used to think that if Jongin had been appreciative of the things he’s done, he’d have put as much effort in doing even the tiniest of tasks. But this isn’t the first time that Jongin forgets to pick up Kyungsoo’s clothes at the dry cleaners. They had long come to an agreement of taking turns when picking up the laundry, and this week is Jongin’s turn.

Kyungsoo didn’t think he’d still end up doing everything himself anyway.

Jongin had apologized numerous times including today, but Kyungsoo doesn’t know if he means any of them anymore, or the words were just something he had gotten used to.

Things had taken a toll on Kyungsoo, and right now he’s starting to get tired of it.

Kyungsoo has nothing else to wear, and if he’s going to have to run outside in nothing else but his pajamas just to get his clothes, he’ll do it. He takes a coat from the closet and walks out the bedroom, entering the kitchen where Jongin is sitting by the counter and spooning cereal into his mouth.

Jongin takes notice of Kyungsoo when he walks past him to fetch himself a glass of water, his coat a clear indication that he plans to head out.

“There’s a storm coming,” Jongin announces, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave at this time.”

Kyungsoo leans back against the fridge and takes a huge gulp from his glass, facing the sink as he leaves it on top right after.

“I’ll take my chances,” Kyungsoo answers dryly.

“It’ll be dangerous, Soo,” Jongin insists. “I won’t let you.”

 _You won’t let me do anything_ , is what Kyungsoo wants to say, but he knows that it doesn’t exactly apply to Jongin.

“It’s not like I have a choice. I wouldn’t be forced to do this if you had picked up my laundry yesterday.”

“I said I was sorry,” Jongin frowns, a pang of guilt coming across his face. “It slipped my mind.”

Kyungsoo looks under the sink, wanting to prove just how careless Jongin has been.

“Apparently, a lot of things slip your mind,” Kyungsoo says, “like loading the dishwasher.”

He spots a white polo lying on the floor on the opposite side of the room, then walks over to pick it up and throws it over the rack. “And hanging your clothes,” he adds.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you today,” Jongin remarks, somewhat irritably, “but this isn’t like you.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been feeling very much like _‘me’_ these days.”

Something catches Kyungsoo’s eye in the middle of their heated conversation. He walks towards the counter and stares at the bowl of fruits, taking one in his hand and raising it as if to show Jongin.

“What is this?” Kyungsoo asks.

“I stopped by the grocery the other day,” Jongin tells him blankly. “Thought you might want some oranges.”

Kyungsoo is livid, and might just be insane for getting angry over a piece of fruit.

But oranges are Jongin’s favorite. Kyungsoo likes mangoes.

He tries to take in the gravity of things—The leaving, the waiting, the forgetting.

Without a second thought, he clenches the orange in his hand and throws it across the room, watching it smash into the wall and dripping juice pulps onto the floor. The sudden movement alarms Jongin, causing him to stand abruptly.

“Kyungsoo!”

“You’re so stupid, Jongin!” Kyungsoo snaps, “That’s the problem with you—I clean up after your shit each time, but you can’t even do a single thing for me as simple as taking out the trash! You say you care but you don’t bother asking what fruit I want. I don’t even think you give a fuck if I hated oranges! You’d buy them anyway because you know I wouldn’t have much of a choice!”

“Kyungsoo, that’s not tr—”

“You’re fucking horrible,” Kyungsoo says. “For making me feel just how unimportant I am to you. I guess I’ll always just be a _‘slip of the mind’_.”

Kyungsoo walks out the door before Jongin can convince him to stay.

The scariest thing about distance is not knowing whether you’re missed or forgotten.

When days pass slowly in front of Kyungsoo’s eyes and leave him wide awake in bed at night, he starts to feel like it’s the latter.

It’s been a week since Jongin came home, and a week since he’s been waiting to hear the door open. When it finally does, he closes his eyes and turns away to roll over to one side, pretending to be asleep while Jongin quietly enters the bedroom.

What comes next is another series of sounds drawing close—feet shuffling and clothes wrinkling. The bed depresses, and Kyungsoo feels a weight drop carefully as if Jongin’s trying not to wake him.

Jongin settles down, and the air becomes static for a few seconds.

Seconds turn into minutes, and the quiet becomes maddening—painful more than peaceful—until a hand reaches for his arm.

It’s warm and welcoming, and it almost feels like _home_ again.

“Please don’t hate me,” Jongin utters softly, pleading.

It’s the first thing he says after Kyungsoo’s previous meltdown the other day, and it brings tears to his eyes, wondering how on earth they had come to this point.

Kyungsoo remembers the predicted weather forecast that day and how sometimes it’s best not to rely on the news. In the end, there was no storm, except for the one that’s still brewing in his chest.

Kyungsoo wants to give in, give in to Jongin’s words again and fall apart in his arms, but a part of Kyungsoo has frozen so badly that not even the sun, and not even Jongin’s warmth, can melt it. His hand slips away, and by the time Kyungsoo hears Jongin’s breathing steadying, it’s also when he cries himself to sleep.

Kyungsoo realizes that distance has never been about being miles apart from Jongin to feel far away from him.

Distance had become the space between their shared bed.

Another morning breaks, and Kyungsoo wakes earlier than usual.

Kyungsoo lifts himself up from the bed while Jongin continues to sleep soundly. He catches a glimpse of the serenity in his face that wipes out any hint of the restlessness present before, then grabs his phone from the desk and makes his way to the kitchen to make himself coffee.

There’s a strange, unexplainable feeling that rises in Kyungsoo’s chest. It stays with him as he drinks his coffee sitting by the marble counter, taking quick sips as he tries to figure out the troubling feeling that won’t go away, almost eating him up from the inside.

As if on cue, his phone vibrates.

He doesn’t think anything about it, but quickly takes his phone from the countertop and swipes to check a notification tweet from one of the online news portals that he follows.

The browser from his phone opens with big bold letters appearing in front of his eyes, and he almost drops the mug in his hand when he reads them.

Once in a while, Kyungsoo would look up the entertainment news purely for amusement. He doesn’t understand the pleasure people take from peeking into other people’s private lives but goes along with it every now and then. People will believe what they wanted to believe anyway.

He thinks it’s all fun and games, until today’s gossip involves a female model and his partner.

Blood drains from his face as he continues to read the article with photos surfacing the bottom of the page.

The angles are made to look as if the two figures were leaning in for a kiss, but because Kyungsoo knows a thing or two about photography, he’s more than unconvinced.

He finds the article almost laughable, how people will be stupid enough to believe it.

But then again, people will believe what they wanted to believe, and Kyungsoo can only hold on to the infinite possibilities of the news being nothing but true.

Kyungsoo tenses at the sound of another voice in the room.

“Why are you up so early?”

He doesn’t want to see Jongin’s innocent eyes, he doesn’t even dare to look back at his glowing face.

Jongin should never know about the things written about him. He’s a sensitive person, and it was the only thing Kyungsoo could do now to protect him from the darkness of the world he knew, even if it’s hurting himself in the process.

Jongin approaches Kyungsoo, and just when he’s close enough to bring his lips to his, he quickly moves away, bringing his phone and mug as he walks over to the kitchen sink.

“Are you hungry?” Kyungsoo tries to ask casually, but fails with the way his voice trembles over the sound of water as he cleans his mug. He tries again by asking, “What do you want for breakfast? I’ll cook you something.”

He doesn’t register the arms that suddenly sneak around his waist and the chin resting on top of his shoulder. He freezes at the touch, stays immobile from his actions because it’s been so long, _so long_ since he’s felt so wanted.

Yet he can’t find himself to reciprocate—not after the article he’s seen, not after everything else.

Kyungsoo realizes he’s been scrubbing the mug with too much soap when it slips from his fingers and drops noisily to the sink, making him jump.

“Are you okay?” Jongin raises his head in concern, but Kyungsoo wriggles out from his arms and busies himself to look for the pans.

“How about some eggs and bacon, huh?” Kyungsoo asks loudly over the nipping thoughts in his head and the pain throbbing in his chest. He takes the pan from the cabinet and sets it down on the cooker. “Is that okay?”

“Kyungsoo.”

“I guess that will do—“

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin calls out insistently.

“Let me just—“

He’s about to turn away when Jongin takes his hand. He tries to yank it away, but Jongin is stronger, and pulls forcefully at his hand that shakes uncontrollably. He doesn’t know why he feels this plethora of emotions—anger, sadness, and fear—taking over him as if he were about to burst at any moment.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin speaks with a certain edge to his voice, holding his phone in one hand and its screen left on the browser where the article stays. “Did you read this?”

Kyungsoo’s face falters, knowing that there is no use in running away from the things that are scaring him.

“Don’t tell me you believe this? That you would believe everyone else but me?”

He pulls his hand away from Jongin, keeping it close to him while he looks solemnly at the other.

“I didn’t think it would still matter,” Kyungsoo murmurs quietly, “what I believed.”

“Of course it does, Kyungsoo! But do you realize how pathetic it is to think that whatever is in this stupid article is true?”

“And how?!” Kyungsoo snaps, “How is it pathetic, Jongin?! What do you want me to expect when I come home everyday to this apartment while you’re out there in your beautiful world, with all those beautiful people! At least give me that much credit. You can’t tell me it’s pathetic just because you can’t see how people see you!”

“And what about you?” Jongin counters, “Can you say the same? Because believe it or not, I only see you!”

“This is ridiculous,” Kyungsoo says dismissively. “This isn’t going anywhere.”

“You know what’s ridiculous?” Jongin asks incredulously. “That even if I tell you now that there is nothing going on between me and that model, you would still see what you want to see. I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to believe that I only love you!”

“Because you make it hard!” Kyungsoo doesn’t believe the words that had come out from his mouth.

Jongin stands still—confused.

“I really want to believe you, Jongin,” he continues. “But you make it so hard for me. And I love you more than you can imagine…”

Jongin’s face changes to a more hurt expression.

“But sometimes, even that is difficult for me to do.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t fight the fresh tears that fall from his face and prickle his skin like fire, allowing his defences to break apart and crumble slowly.

“What do you want me to do, then?” Jongin asks, almost desperately, “I’d do anything. I’d kiss you in the middle of the street, if that’s what you want—”

“That’s not the point—”

“Then be honest with me, Kyungsoo! Stop keeping me in the dark, and just tell me what you want!”

 _I want you. And me. And the stupid bed again,_ Kyungsoo thinks.

_I want you back, and the part of me that you’ve taken with you._

This is when everything clicks—when everything starts to make sense and boils down to one important thing.

Kyungsoo loved Jongin as much as he loved the sun, that he lost himself somewhere in between and didn’t mind being burnt by the fire.

“All I wanted in this life was for you to shine, Jongin. I always try to convince myself that I’m doing everything I can to make sure you don’t walk out the door and never come home, even if it means putting you above anything else.”

Jongin continues to look at Kyungsoo in confusion, but his eyes are brimming with tears and it hurts Kyungsoo more than the words he wants to say.

“And there is nothing else I would want more than to believe that you love me and not the person you made me, because I don’t know how to love you without feeling unworthy of you anymore.”

Jongin doesn’t respond for some time, but cries so hard his knees drop to the floor. Kyungsoo kneels in front of him and watches helplessly as Jongin sobs into his hands.

Kyungsoo has never seen him so devastated, and yet here is Jongin, with his bright smile and sunheart, now broken and vulnerable in front of him.

“I am so, so sorry, Kyungsoo.” Jongin whispers.

“It’s not your fault, Jongin,” he insists. “I should have been more honest with you,”

“But I should have known all this time,” Jongin mumbles quietly, but loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear, “that loving me only brings you pain.”

“That’s... That’s not true—“

“Oh but it is, isn’t it?” Jongin asks, looking up at him miserably, a sad smile donning on his lips. “That loving me means losing you?”

Kyungsoo wishes he could take back his words, take everything back just to see the light that used to be in Jongin’s eyes.

They can only hold each other on the cold floor as the rain falls, unaware of how even the sky cries too.

What happens now? Jongin asks Kyungsoo one night.

They lie together in the darkness of the bedroom, and Kyungsoo chooses to break the silence, asking Jongin what he means by that.

“Where do we go from here?” Jongin asks, “I mean, I know I’m not going anywhere…”

The room is dark, but Kyungsoo can see Jongin’s glossy eyes gazing at the moon from out the window, just like last time.

“But if you think what you need right now is out there…”

Kyungsoo sits up straight and turns back to look at Jongin, taken aback by his words.

“Are you asking me to leave?” Kyungsoo asks in confusion.

“I’m not asking you to do anything.”

“Then what exactly are you saying, Jongin?”

Jongin's face softens as he looks at him with a smile barely reaching his eyes.

“I’m saying I love you, and that you could be happy without me.”

Kyungsoo’s face changes. He’s not sure if what he heard was right, but his eyes begin to moist while his chest constricts, overwhelmed by the mixed emotions that quickly take over him and the thoughts that fill his mind.

“No,” Kyungsoo rejects. “I’m not going anywhere, Jongin. I want to be with you.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jongin reassures Kyungsoo, taking his hand in his before he continues. “Just not like this, not when I see you cry in front of me with the tears that I made.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Kyungsoo pleads. “If this is because of what I said the other day, then don’t start because I’m not planning on leaving you. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Jongin says, “and because I’m grateful for all the sacrifices you’ve done for me, giving you back to the world is mine.”

Kyungsoo is at a loss for words, not knowing what else to say. He can only look away from Jongin’s face and down at their hands, realizing his own defeat as he tries to process the words left hanging in the air between them.

Jongin is the only home Kyungsoo knows. He hates the thought of leaving, but hearing Jongin cry every night consumed by the guilt caused by his own selfishness—Kyungsoo hates that thought more.

“Come here.”

He lies next to Jongin’s side as he’s pulled against him and into his comforting embrace. Jongin pulls back for a moment to reach out and cup his face, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks with his thumb and kissing both of Kyungsoo’s eyelids to stop him from crying.

Kyungsoo runs his hand along the length of Jongin’s arm and over the warmth of his skin, contemplating for a while.

Jongin tilts his chin up and brings his lips to his— short and gentle—then pulls away before Kyungsoo can kiss him back.

Jongin claims his lips again, and again, with each kiss turning more persistent and leaving Kyungsoo breathless. He brings his lips to Kyungsoo’s one more time before pulling away, with just enough space for their foreheads to align.

“You’re too good to me, Kyungsoo,” Jongin breathes heavily. “I only ruin you.”

Their lips barely touch, but it makes Kyungsoo’s blood run hot in his veins because right now Jongin is all he wants.

“Then ruin me, Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispers softly, “Ruin me, just for tonight.”

 

It’s a wonder how Jongin’s hands and lips still know their way around Kyungsoo, has memorised every inch of his body so perfectly that even in the dark, Jongin still manages to find all the spots that make him weak and fill him with desire.

When Jongin makes love to Kyungsoo that night, every movement is magnified—from the way Jongin holds Kyungsoo tight to the way his body moves slowly, leisurely against his own—living this moment as if it was their last.

It takes Kyungsoo a week to prepare, although there isn’t much for him to pack except his clothes, books, and a wooden crate of sketch pads which are now piled up in boxes with all his other stuff, while the rest of the things he shared with Jongin stays in the apartment—he had to think twice about taking the only toothbrush in the bathroom, but chose to let Jongin keep it.

Jongin decides to take a break during the week, declining every job offer given to him. He tells Kyungsoo that he needs some time off, but Kyungsoo thinks it’s only because Jongin wants to help him pack, and is perhaps stalling for more time—as if Kyungsoo himself isn’t doing the same.

Baekhyun arrives in the afternoon, with Chanyeol tagging along to help carry his boxes and transfer them to his van. As soon as Baekhyun heard the news, he volunteered to take Kyungsoo in, joking about how he’d trade living alone with having his own personal chef anytime.

When Chanyeol takes the last box in his hands, Baekhyun turns to Kyungsoo, glancing at Jongin for a while before looking back at his best friend to speak.

“We’ll wait for you downstairs,” Baekhyun smiles reassuringly. He understands the gravity of the situation, so he walks out the door and leaves Kyungsoo and Jongin standing in the middle of the apartment with a silence that’s indescribable for a moment like this.

Jongin breaks first.

“This is actually harder than I thought it would be,” he admits.

Kyungsoo tries to pacify the mood. “I didn’t think it would hurt as much as for the person leaving.”

“It doesn’t,” Jongin replies, “Because when you’re watching the person you love walk out the door, it only hurts so much more.”

Things were always brighter when Jongin was around, with eyes so alive and being so full of color. Today, Kyungsoo can only see the emptiness in his eyes.

He isn’t ready for this, and neither is Jongin.

But before any of them can change their minds, Kyungsoo starts walking to the door, with Jongin following quietly behind him.

By the time Kyungsoo reaches it and grasps the knob, his chest starts to ache.

He breathes slowly as the air thickens around him, and just as he’s about to twist the knob to open the door, a hand covers his own. Jongin leans his head against Kyungsoo’s with an arm wrapped around his body, hugging him as if he didn’t want to let go.

Kyungsoo suddenly feels something warm and wet land on the back of his neck, and hears Jongin crying faintly behind him.

Kyungsoo’s thankful Jongin can’t see him right now, but that doesn’t stop the tears that fall from his own face.

He lets go of the knob to take Jongin’s hand in his, keeping it close as he gently presses his lips to Jongin’s fingers to calm him, while his other hand places itself over the arm around his waist.

The crying stops after some time, and they are stuck with the silence once again, allowing this moment of peace to drag on longer than it should.

They will never be ready for something like this, unless someone leaves.

Kyungsoo isn’t going to say goodbye, so Jongin lets him walk out the door without looking back, keeping Jongin’s face and their promise etched into his memory.

_You find you, Kyungsoo, and come home to me when you do._ They’re far from their destination, but Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol to pull over at the side of the bridge. When the van comes to a full stop, he quickly gets down from the vehicle and spots the sun that’s just about to set. 

Baekhyun stands next to him with Chanyeol by his side and his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder, while Kyungsoo watches the sun paint the blue sky with a delicate shade of pink, looking back on the days and hours of missed chances and wishful thinking.

It’s scary to step out of your comfort zone and step into something different, but it isn’t always a bad thing to try to change—to become the person you want to be and figuring out who that is.

They continue to watch the sun drown in the horizon until Kyungsoo is reminded of a dark haired man with a warm and bright smile, thinking that if sunsets can make beautiful endings, then he can’t wait to wake up to new beginnings.

EPILOGUE:

 

Kyungsoo thought art was something untouchable—he’d seen it ever since he was little, hanging on walls or situated inside museums; he’d seen it outside written in narrow alleyways and underground subway stations.

He thought art was in most things—in books, in music, and in films. He would even see it in people—in the way they dress themselves, and in the way their bodies move.

A fond memory comes to Kyungsoo’s mind about someone who once told him that he was good with his hands. His eye for composition had been evident in his floral arrangements, and had the kind of potential that was meant for something much bigger than the little flower shop he settled with.

 _It’s about time you show people just how brilliant you are_ , Baekhyun tells him one day, pestering him nonstop about teaching art lessons to unfortunate kids as volunteer work.

He was still scared and still _homesick_ , but Kyungsoo made a promise.

The sun will continue to rise and fall, and he will find himself again.

He starts by teaching a few classes, thinking it would be a great idea to keep himself busy and help other people through doing something that made him truly happy.

Kyungsoo had always thought there was something fascinating about making beautiful things. He finds it even more fascinating when the children see and feel things through the paintings he shows them, seeing that he could create these thoughts and emotions inside a person.

Months pass by without noticing how Kyungsoo’s flower shop had slowly turned into an open studio, taking freelance projects and painting day and night on canvases. He leaves them outside by the window to dry once he’s done, unaware of the curious eyes that stop to see his work.

It suddenly occurs to him that the person he wanted to find had never been lost, but had only been led to the right direction—to the person he wanted to be.

He starts to feel like himself again, and little by little, people begin to talk about the boy and the dainty flower shop in the city of Seoul who grew dandelions and made art.

 

He would have never seen it coming in just the span of a year, but Kyungsoo was given an opportunity to showcase and auction off a few of his pieces in one of the city’s prime exhibits.

He never thought this day would come, and yet here was Do Kyungsoo, praised and recognized for the beauty of his craft.

The moon shines bright outside as guests and the press take their final rounds inside the gallery to see Kyungsoo’s art. He stood confident but modest as he greeted the people that congratulated him as they made their way out, still overwhelmed by the attention he gets when he is complimented for his work.

He likes to think that art was no longer untouchable, but was something he created.

Baekhyun says nothing else but cries and hugs him, while Chanyeol has to pry his partner’s hands off Kyungsoo’s neck before he squeezes him to death.

Moments later, Kyungsoo becomes the last person inside the gallery and takes one more look at his creations, feeling almost contented with his life.

Except something was still missing, realizing that the person he needed the most had not shown up.

The last time he saw Jongin had been the same day he left home. They’ve lost contact since then, although Kyungsoo still kept his phone number without any plans of deleting it. They could have still kept in touch, but Kyungsoo thought it would be easier if they didn’t, until he was well and truly ready to face Jongin again.

And Jongin had been obedient, too obedient that even when Kyungsoo had finally sent him an invite, no reply followed after that.

It left Kyungsoo wondering if he was waiting for him, or if he had completely erased him from his memories?

Kyungsoo missed him for a whole year, and Jongin not showing up tonight feels just as excruciating as all the days he spent without him.

When he opens the door to leave the gallery, he sucks in a rush of the cool February air before stepping down to the pavement, about to cross the street.

“I always knew you were good with your hands.”

Kyungsoo stops in his tracks and shivers at the familiarity of his voice.

He looks up and sees Jongin standing a few feet away, the wind blowing strands of hair across his face as he looks back at him.

They stand still for several seconds, and Kyungsoo’s heart feels heavier than usual that it could probably weigh him down.

When Kyungsoo sees the corner of Jongin’s mouth lift into a smile, he walks towards him, thinking of nothing else but wanting to take him into his arms. He comes close and brings his arms around Jongin, pulling him flush against his body as his arms go around him.

Kyungsoo doesn’t notice the tears that fall from his eyes, but takes in the way Jongin presses his face into his hair.

They stay like this for some time, holding each other like one of them could disappear at any moment.

Jongin loosens his grip and pulls away from his shoulder for a moment to look at him, with his thumb brushing over his cheeks to wipe his tears away.

“I tried to come near you inside the gallery, but there was just too much competition for your attention.”

Kyungsoo laughs.

“I thought it would be better to just wait here and catch you alone, and I guess I was right.”

He missed his voice, his scent, his stories. He missed everything about him.

“I saw your art, Kyungsoo, and I couldn’t look away. They’re beautiful just like you.”

Kyungsoo smiles. “You’re quite beautiful yourself.”

“Maybe that’s only because you love me.”

Kyungsoo looks up at him.

“I have something to say,” Jongin says. “I’ve wasted too much time without telling you that I wouldn’t be the person I am today if not for all the love you’ve shown me, and I’ve never felt so proud seeing that you’ve conquered the world all on your own.”

Jongin continues talking. “I know now why the moon mattered so much to me—it reminded me of you. You accepted me and saw me for who I was, yet you took care of me without asking for anything else. You are so much like the moon, hiding parts of you just so you could watch me shine with your light. I wish I could have given you that kind of love, and can only feel sorry for being too late. I know I may not be able to make up for all my mistakes right away, but for now I hope this is enough.”

Truthfully, it was more than enough—knowing that Kyungsoo had done something in his life that made Jongin proud of him.

Jongin drops his forehead to his, and Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut, relishing this moment for as long as he can.

He feels the warmth of Jongin’s arms in the cold winter night, and this is when everything falls into place, into something that was beautiful again.

When Jongin pulls back, Kyungsoo brings his hands up to his hair and runs his fingers through it, staring lovingly into his eyes.

“Can I take you somewhere, Kyungsoo?” Jongin asks, looking down at him with genuine hope. “Tell me where to go, so I can I start over with you. I can’t promise to love you perfectly, but I can promise to love you when you’re whole, in all your phases, and with all your hollow pieces.”

Kyungsoo smiles but doesn’t agree to anything. He puts his hands on Jongin’s face, gently stroking his cheek.

“It’s getting late, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. “But will you take me _home_?”

Jongin grins before lowering his mouth to his, holding the moonlight in his hands.

 

The sun and moon continue to lead two different lives—bringing warmth throughout the day and illuminating the night.

They would always chase each other, and most times even miss one another.

But once in a while they catch up. They meet, and when they come together, _oh, when they do,_ it will be nothing short of magnificent.

~ ☀︎☾ ~


End file.
